Skinny Love
by Momo Cicerone
Summary: Her hand hurts like hell, she's hungry as fuck and she just managed to make a complete idiot of herself in front of this ridiculously handsome guy who, by the way, she also happened to punch unconscious earlier. Things cannot get any weirder than this— Literally. —A series of unrelated [Jerza] drabbles.
1. Strawberry Affliction

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

 **Prompt:** "Who wouldn't be angry? You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!"

 **Pairing:** Jellal Fernandes / Erza Scarlet (Jerza)

 **Genre and Rating:** Romance/Humor, K

 **Word Count:** 859

 **A/N:** I'm taking prompts for drabbles on tumblr. This is way too OOC for it's own good but the prompt was kinda ridiculous anyway so. _*Couggs I was hoping someone would request Bixanna for this particualr prompt but welp coughs*_

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Okay, she's clearly mad at him, and he has zero idea as per the reason why.

She's terrible at hiding it, really. That is, if she's as much as even _attempting_ to do so, because he doesn't seem to find much too (if any) discretion in the way her cheeks puff out into a pout as she shots venom-injected side glances at him over the breakfast table.

Jellal comes to the conclusion that he'd somehow managed to step on the lioness's tail. It's not rocket science, given how captain obvious is looking at him as if plotting to make him part of the decoration.

He quickly goes through a mental scan of everything he did and said in the last 24 hours, but nothing in particular comes to mind. How is he supposed to make damage control if he has no idea of what the hell he did wrong in the first place?

His tone is apprehensive when he tries to start a conversation.

"Hey, can you pass me the _—_?" Before he has a chance to finish his sentence, she slams a bottle of salt in front of him with such force that almost knocks his bowl of fruit loops over.

He blinks in surprise, taken aback by her bluntness. If his head wasn't on the chopping block, he'd maybe find her pouting expression and crimson red cheeks kind of amusing… _endearing,_ even.

 _Jeez_ , he's such a masochist sometimes.

"Um… I meant the _napkin_." He says tentatively, and no sooner are the words spoken than she smacks him in the face with it.

He huffs and takes the thing away from his face, now fairly exasperated, " _Jesus_ , Erza. What's the matter?"

The scarlet haired woman pretends not to hear him and chews on her breakfast energetically, face turned the other way.

"What did I do?" His tone is starting to sound defensive, almost offended, "What are you even angry about?"

And she _snaps._ Her fists slam soundly on the table and he thinks to himself it's a miracle the thing didn't crack into pieces. The ends of her scarlet hair dip on some milk when she flips it over in a swift dramatic fashion, turning her face to glare at him with an accusing look on her eyes.

"Who wouldn't be angry? You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!"

" _What?_ " He asks, dumbfounded. Well, he clearly missed the memo about _that_.

"You heard me, Jellal, _damn you_!"

He runs a hand through his indigo hair, ruffling the back as if to shake off the craziness of her accusation.

"Okay, first of all; there's plenty of cereal in the cupboard that I'm aware of. I just stocked."

" _Fruit Loops_ , Jellal!" She remarked heatedly, her voice off pitch, "Where's my strawberry cornflake?"

"There's…. strawberry flavor…" He says lamely, trying to pick up loops of red colored cereal with the spoon, "…somewhere. I'm sure."

The look on her face is one filled with such offense and disappointment it actually makes him feel kind of disgusted with himself. How outrageous of him to _— wait a second_.She's doing it again, messing with his mind.

 _Damn_ , she's way too good at this.

"I-I'm sorry..." He mutters, a defeated expression on his face, "I'll buy you some today. _I promise_."

That doesn't seem to completely ease her mood, but she seems somehow calmer. Elbow propping on the table, she rests her chin on the palm of her hand, her lower lip jutting out ever so lightly into a charming pout.

"As per the _faking my death_ bit," he continues, "If you're talking about that time when I went into a comatose for three months—"

"—It _felt_ like three years." She argues defensively.

He sighs in resignation. This girl, she'll be the death of him.

Pulling his chair over to sit closer to her, he brushes his fingers over her forehead to sweep away the scarlet strands covering her eyes. His lips curls into a lopsided, lazy smile that taints her cheeks a faint shade of pink, and she averts her gaze in embarrassment as her heart skips a beat in response.

"Is there a way I can make it up to you?" He says in an undertone, heavy lidded eyes staring into her chocolate brown pupils as he leans her face closer. His fingers glide over her hair in a soothing motion, and she curses herself mentally when her stomach does a little somersault.

Seriously. That's plain cheating, and it only manages to piss her off the more.

" _You can't—_ "

" _Strawberry cheesecake?_ " He says suggestively, widening the grin on his lips.

Ah, but does he know her well.

"Ya…Yajima's?" She peeps meekly, half torn between luring him with puppy eyes or glaring the shit out of him.

He laughs wholeheartedly and hugs her head against his chest, "That can be arranged."

She mumbles something indistinctive, words muffled by his embrace. But he seems to catch something between the lines of ' _I hate you_ '.

His lips meet with the top of her head, lips still curled up into a smile before replying, "I'm sure you do."

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 **A/N:** Reviews are extremely appreciated :)


	2. Stranger Than Fiction

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot

 **Prompt:** "So why did I have to punch this guy?"

 **Title:** Stranger Than Fiction

 **Summary:** Her hand hurts like hell, she's hungry as fuck and she just managed to make a complete idiot of herself in front of this ridiculously handsome guy who, by the way, she also happened to punch unconscious earlier. Things cannot get any weirder than this _— Literally._

 **Genre and Rating:** Romance/Humor ; T for language

 **Word Count:** 1427

 **A/N:** Tumblr request from FairiesInOurHearts . The _Mockingjay_ reference is from **Ambivia's** _Finnick Deserved Better_ (have a laugh, read it). I'm literally _exhausted_. This fic is an absolute trainwreck from start to finish.

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 **Stranger Than Fiction**

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It all happens in a blur: a misplaced cup of coffee on the table, clumsy elbows knocking the dark brown content all over a mangled copy of _Mockingjay_ , and Lucy's ultrasonic screech piercing his ears. Chaos ensues, a reign of total pandemonium _—_ It was a doomed setup from the very beginning.

Next thing he knows, he's spluttering apologies like a blushing schoolboy while a deeply distraught Lucy tries to ease her sorrow on Natsu's comforting shoulder. Jellal picks the coffee-sodden book between his hands and frantically pads the hem of his shirt over the soaked pages, trying his best not to smudge the printed letters off the paper. Seriously, he's a lost cause with crying females. She can have his shirt. His lunch money. His Maroon 5 CD collection, too _—_

No, wait. Maybe not the CD collection. (Tough the keys to his cars are available somewhere in the depth of his pockets, and ready to be sacrificed as a peace offering whenever she reaches stage 3 of grieving.)

He's too caught up in the ungrateful task of salvaging whatever is left of the aforementioned _book of discord_ to notice the little turmoil they've caused in the cafeteria. Heads are turned towards them, some giggling at the scene as Natsu murmurs words of comfort into Lucy's ears. The pink haired boy starts rubbing his hand over her back in a soothing motion, a smile curling the corners of his smug lips. Jellal curses under his breath, lamenting his misfortune. If you ask him, the universe seems to be in conspiracy against him. Totally _not fair_ that the lucky bastard gets the girl while he gets public embarrassment and a coffee-stained shirt as a souvenir for being a careless idiot.

He's thinking to himself that things couldn't possibly get any worse when _she_ storms upon the scene.

Bedazzling and equally terrifying, she leaps through the crowd in a most menacing fashion, like a fire tornado of scarlet flames looming over to burn out everything on her path _._ A dangerous glint in her eyes scream _murder_ as she walks and the vein popping in her forehead shouts _get the fuck out of my way if you want to live_.

He's somehow marveled that the room doesn't quake when she dramatically stomps to a halt behind Lucy and demands with a stern voice,

"Which one of you _dickheads_ made her cry?"

Lucy sniffs, face still buried on her boyfriend's chest. Natsu, on the other hand, is fast to point an accusing finger towards an unsuspecting Jellal, whose face is frozen in a startled expression.

When the scarlet volcano flicks her deathly stare on him, he gets to see a glimpse of the _Gates of Hell_ opening upon him as the very personification of Persephone raises from the underworld to claim his soul. Without any preambles, her murderous fist slams against his left cheek and sends him directly into the ground with a loud thud.

Unfazed, Erza flips her impressive red hair over her shoulder and turns to face the stunned couple.

"So, why did I have to punch this guy?" She asks with genuine curiosity, as if punching random men unconscious was part of her everyday routine.

As he lays dumbfounded on the floor, world spinning madly around him and cheek scorching hot from the pain —okay, don't judge but, _sweet Jesus_ — he thinks he might have just fallen in love.

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In her defense, _she didn't know_.

For the way Lucy was crying her eyes out, she'd just _assumed_ that she was being bullied, and alright, maybe she should have asked first. She should have at least given somebody the chance to speak before ruthlessly going off on a complete stranger— an extremely attractive stranger, by the way.

 _Urgh._

She has literally no idea how she's gonna survive the awkwardness when he wakes up.

Meanwhile, he's soundly passed out on an infirmary bed and she's sitting beside him. His expression is so peaceful he could be as well asleep, except for the swollen purple bruise on his left cheek that makes her want to die of utter embarrassment. The red tattoo on the other side of his face even pales in comparison, and she wonders what kind of guy is crazy enough to leave a permanent imprint in such a remarkable spot.

Unless of course, it's not a real tattoo.

Out of sheer curiosity, she leans closer to his face and studies the odd symbols painted across his handsome features, eyes squinted for a clearer view and so close that her nose almost touches his skin.

That's when she comes to the realization that, one: he's got great skin; two: the tattoo is real; and three: he's very much awake and staring back at her with a weirded out expression.

Erza flinches back to her chair, face going through all shades of red in utmost mortification as she wishes the earth would crack open and swallow her whole. A river of ridiculous excuses as per why is she blatantly staring as his pretty face at an alarming lack of distance run through her mind, but she finds herself unable to blurt anything out. He looks everything in between a mix of disoriented, flustered and slightly amused as he sits up on the bed and runs his tanned fingers to ruffle the messy locks of indigo hair.

"Where am I?" He asks, voice husky from just waking up.

Ignoring all rules of common courtesy _—_ well, she did knock the guy out in their first meeting, so excuse her for the faux pas here _—_ she clutches the carton box between her hands and pushes it forward as her head faces down in a solemn bow, not answering his question and instead blurting, " _F-For you!_ "

Jellal blinks twice, flabbergasted. "What is this for?"

"L-Lucy told me everything" She stutters, "She says she's sorry too. And Natsu, t…they couldn't be here because they have a lecture."

He looks at the beautifully wrapped box in astonishment, the _8 island_ logo on the package catching his attention. The corner of his lips curl in amusement, a fuzzy sensation filling his chest. Did she seriously bring him cake as an apology? If there was scoreboard, she just got herself 10 points for that.

"It's okay," He reassures her, the attempt of grin turning into a painful grimace, "You really didn't have to buy this for me."

She doesn't tell him that's actually her lunch and she's kinda starving now that she sacrificed it for him as a peace offering slash bad attempt at apology. Instead, he purses her lips in a determined expression, brows knitting together as she pushes the cake further towards him, "B-But I insist!"

Her treacherous stomach growls in the worst moment possible, and she wants to _die_ on the spot.

"Is that… your lunch?" He asks tentatively, "That's very nice of you, but I couldn't accept that _—_ "

 _Mortified_ is an understatement. At this point she's having serious considerations about changing her name and fleeing the country. She hit a new low _—_ her hand hurts like hell, she's hungry as fuck and she just managed to make a complete idiot of herself in front of this ridiculously handsome guy who, by the way, she also happened to punch unconscious earlier. Things cannot get any weirder than this _— Literally. S_ he just wants to get this over with once and for all, so she loses her shit and rips the carton box apart, shoves the plastic spoon on the cake and unceremoniously stuffs its pink contains into the bewildered boy's mouth.

"Just _fucking_ … take my apology, damn you!"

He chokes, coughing out small crumbs of pastry out of his mouth and saying with difficulty, "Um, T-Thanks?"

He can't tell if her horrified expression is due to her own actions or because of a particular big chunk of strawberry that fell off his lips, but she seems really upset. He tells himself it's a bad idea, this contradictory girl who walks like a raging storm and blushes like the twilight sky. She's a dormant volcano, the omen of imminent perdition _—_ he's just seen faint traces of smoke, but he _wonders_ _—_ Jellal just wonders if, by any chance, lighting the fuse to her fire would make him fall in love with the flames.

"Say, um," He starts again, awkwardly, "Since I took your lunch, it seems only fair that I buy you another one?"

He's not really sure why, but the sparkles burning in her eyes makes combusting in embers seem a like an oddly tempting adventure.

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 _ **fin**_

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 **A/N:** Reviews are extremely appreciated.


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